


An Idiot's Return

by Kuronrko98



Series: Maladaptive Daydreaming Work: The Cube and Related Universes [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Arguing, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Reunions, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuronrko98/pseuds/Kuronrko98
Summary: Not everyone is happy that Connor came back. Or, more accurately, that it took him so long to return.





	An Idiot's Return

**Author's Note:**

> I used several prompts in this one from:  
> http://writing-is-ruining-my-life.tumblr.com/post/171332693864/dialogue-prompt-i-need-you-you-need-me-you  
> https://pleasepromptme.tumblr.com/post/167461094837/angsty-dialogue-prompts  
> http://sparkingstoryinspiration.tumblr.com/post/167805802517/dialogue-ideas

When I was younger, I would sleep on the floor a lot. At first, it was because I would rather sleep in the living room with my sister than in my room at my dad’s house. We would stay up late watching Road to El Dorado, Pirates of the Caribbean, Hercules, any one of the 1,001 movies our father had.

Then, it was because I didn’t have a bed at my mom’s house. It was fine, I wasn’t bothered, I had plenty of blankets and pillows to make nests with, so I didn’t care. I really didn’t care.

But then my sister stopped going to our dad’s house on the weekends, so I could sleep on the couch and watch the same old movies by myself. My mom got a new mattress for herself and gave me the old one. I didn’t sleep on the floor anymore.

So when, I wonder, did my body forget that history that I remember? When did I end up unable to sleep on the rough carpet of my mom’s living room? Laying on the floor, staring at the blue light from the TV and squished between my boyfriend and my cousin.

Some birthday.

Slowly, carefully, I extract myself from the pile of bodies on the floor. Cyril murmurs in his sleep, and I smile. It was a fun night, if nothing else. Bad horror movies and more friends than I’ve ever had in the house at once.

This is what it’s like to have friends in real life, I guess.

I pad around the corner and down the hall into the small bathroom, squinting when I flip the light on. I stare at myself in the mirror, but I don’t see anything different.

17, a new person, or whatever. I have a life and friends and I’m succeeding but I still don’t feel any different than I did a year ago. I’m not about to down another bottle of pills, but I’m not going to pretend I feel better either.

An insubstantial nudge from the Cube distracts me, and I listen in.

_**It’s urgent. Come to the lab NOW.** _

The ticker tape from Jay peters out and I frown at the mirror, my eyes still out of focus. Jay hasn’t called on me in some time. They usually say I’m too sentimental, but that’s bullshit. The Cube would have fallen apart without me.

I shake my head and spin the tap. The faucet emits a low whine, too loud for the night. I know I should wait until the water warms a little, but I put my hands under the frigid water and splash it into my face.

I stand straight again, now with a damp face, and frown before snatching up the hand towel on the counter to dry off. That was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn’t.

I send a short message, promising I’ll come in the morning, and open the door to head back to the sleep pile.

I freeze, one hand still on the doorknob.

I try to speak, but my words stick in my throat. The insubstantial boy in front of me seems to shrink back under my gaze, but I can’t look away. It’s like looking into another mirror with a few marked differences.

He’s tall. The bags under my eyes didn’t transfer to his. His hair is so short, barely tickling his ears. Even in his sheepish smile, his cheeks dip into shallow dimples.

Connor’s _here._

Finally, he raises a hand in a small wave. “Hey.”

There’s a beat of silence before I find my voice.

“You came back.”

“I was always going to.” He hangs back, as if dealing with a wild animal. He wears the same look Jay gave me when he first disappeared, that everyone gives me when I talk about November.

I scowl and drive forward, marching past him. I can’t do this right now. I need sleep, need to find time to be alone, a time when my house isn’t filled with sleeping people. I need this to have happened a year ago.

“Jess, please—”

I stop, spinning around at the end of the hall.

“Don’t,” I hiss, the words breaking past my lips when it should have stayed silent. “Don’t try to placate me.”

“I didn’t come here to fight, _please_ —”

“Do you expect me to be _happy_ to see you?” I bluster, advancing on him. He takes a step back and glances around nervously. “Did you think I would be sitting here alone on my birthday, just waiting for you to walk back in?”

“Of course not!” He straightens up, indignant. “I thought you’d be asleep! I was going to come back in the morning, but then you _were_ awake, and, well…”

He looks away, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

My heart pangs, and the tension in his shoulders is yet another reflection of everything I am. When he looks back, it’s with defeat. His eyes don’t come to my face, leveled at the ground instead, and another needle pierces my chest.

“I promise, I was going to do this better. I told Jay I would wait and—”

_What?_

“How long have you been in the Cube?” My voice remains miraculously level, and Connor pales. “How long have you been here without telling me?”

The question hangs in the air, and he finally looks me in the eye. He flinches at whatever he sees, and it pushes a shot of satisfaction through my blood to know I look as angry as I feel.

“Three days.”

The only thing keeping my temper in check is the knowledge that there are five people asleep just around the corner.

On one plane, in reality, I turn and walk away. I need to lay down, if only to keep from waking everyone up.

On the other, I stare Connor down with every resentful thought I’ve had in the past two years. He shrinks back, but I step forward and take hold of his wrist.

“Fine.” The word sounds foreign, not my own. “Let’s do this.”

I don’t bother calling a door. I don’t have the patience to fumble with a key or wait for the right lock. No, I tug his hand and we land in the center of the Cube.

The Room.

My Room.

Connor stumbles, and I let go of his wrist to cross to the door. With a snap of my fingers, it locks. No interruptions, not this time.

“I’m sorry.”

I scoff, turning back. “That would work if you’d run off for a couple weeks. Hell, it would have been fine last year.”

“I know.” He stares at me, eyes wide.

The last time he was here with me, the Cube was only this room. Doors lining the walls where now there’s only one. He was only a voice, a spectre hanging over my shoulder. We were so in tune, and now I look at him and I can’t even guess at what he’s thinking.

But now that we’re alone, he gets to know what I think.

“You left. You were _gone_ for two _years_ ,” I cry. He flinches but takes a step forward. I hold up a hand with a strangled sound in the back of my throat. “Stay the _hell_ away from me.”

After a beat, he nods.

“Can I—” He clears his throat, his voice meek. I never thought I would be able to describe anything about Connor as meek, and it tears me apart. “Is there a chair I can…?”

“No.”

He nods again, but the heat of my anger is doused by the miserable picture he paints. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes downcast. I swallow, raise a hand, and flick my wrist. A chair shoots out from one of the many desks, spinning to a stop next to him.

He hesitates, glancing at me, but ultimately takes a seat. When he’s settled, he gets half of a thank you out before it dies in his throat as his eyes land back on me.

“I had to go to Furnace to find a fucking glimpse of you. And you waited _three days_ to tell me that you’re back?”

“It was Jay’s idea,” he mutters.

“And you told _Jay_ you were back before you told me!” I exclaim, throwing my hand into the air in exasperation. He didn’t used to be this fucking stupid. “You were everything, even if you were an asshole, and you couldn’t be bothered to let me know when you came back.”

My voice cracks, and Connor winces. He doesn’t try to pitch in.

“You said you left to let me grow. For me to exist without you, but that’s not _fair._ ” Tears push past my eyelids, and I focus on my clenched fists instead of him. “If wish you had just asked me instead of deciding on your own what’s best like always.”

“I wanted to be better. I wasn’t—” He stops himself, and I wipe my eyes to see him shifting uncomfortably. “I was hurting you. I had to be better for you.”

“How could that _possibly_ take so long? How do the memory sectors mix into that?”

He doesn’t look at me. “You deserve better than who I was.”

“I deserve someone who’ll tell me the truth!” I hiss. “You aren’t giving me any real answers, and I know there’s more than soul searching and guilt can explain.”

“I can’t tell you,” he says through gritted teeth.

“So it’s a _secret_!” I exclaim, flashing him a mocking grin. “I should have known we could only go without secrets _before_ you went on an adventure through my memories.”

“I don’t want to keep it a secret, but please. I can’t tell you.” The hurt in his voice give me pause. I can’t find the words to fuel my momentum, so the silence stretches on. Eventually, he sighs. “But I’m back. I want to make it right. You might not believe me, but after everything that’s happened I need you.”

I stare at him. I can see his regret now that the words have left his mouth, but I’m not letting him get away with it.

“You _need_ me?” I repeat. “You _left_ me. You left all of us!”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, hang on, listen.” I wave a hand and shrinks back. “You broke me. You nearly destroyed this place, shattering it when you disappeared, and I had to put it back together on my own.

“I had help but _I’m_ the one that had to fix the mess you left here.”

“I know.”

“ _I’m_ the one that build this place, _I_ made it the haven it is now. _I_ did that because you tore me and everything else apart.”

“I know. But you grew, right?” He offers. “You became what you are now, better than you were?”

“I survived, you _asshole_!” I cry, and this time I don’t look away when the tears come. “I thought you would come back after Tabi. I thought you would come back after my best friend moved, when my sister left.

“Everyone thought you would come back when I was spiraling in November.” I hear his sharp intake of breath, my lip curling. “Everyone tried to find you, they thought you could stop it, but you _still_ didn’t come!”

“I’m sorry,” he says again. I don’t deign to give him a proper reply.

“After all that, I—” I close my eyes, my throat closing before I can finish. Connor doesn’t say anything, so I swallow and take the second chance I’ve been given. “I wish I could say I hate you.”

“Jess?”

A sob hits me like a punch to the diaphragm, and it takes me a second to be able to go one. “But I don’t. I can’t hate you, no matter how much I want to.”

Another sob tears up my throat, and I let myself sink to the floor. In an instant, Connor’s at my side. He doesn’t touch me, hovering like a nervous dog, but for once I don’t want space.

I reach out with shaking fingers until they hook into the fabric of his shirt. He seems to take that as permission, wrapping me in a warm hug he’s never been able to give me before. I breathe in, shaky and rough, the scent of citrus and candle wax so vivid I can almost believe it’s real.

“Don’t leave again,” I plead into his shoulder. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“Of course.” His voice is steady, gentle. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”


End file.
